


International Relations

by stelladora



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, all my fics are fluff and angst, first oc yaaay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-17 09:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1382425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stelladora/pseuds/stelladora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jimmy had, earlier that week, been lamenting to Thomas about how nothing ever happened at Downton with no guests flowing in and out. 'I’d rather have peace than a bunch of commotion,' Thomas pointed out."<br/>Thomas ends up finding himself thrilled about the new Russian guests at Downton, while Jimmy is far less enthused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Фома

It had been some time since there had been a visitor at Downton who wasn’t part of the family. The house was often quiet now, or as quiet as it could be with two young children in it. Everyone had fallen into a routine, which was easy for the staff, but also very boring. Jimmy had, earlier that week, been lamenting to Thomas about how nothing ever happened at Downton anymore. “I’d rather have peace than a bunch of commotion,” Thomas pointed out. Jimmy had huffed at him and called him an old man.

Thomas partially understood where Jimmy was coming from; there were times when things seemed a bit too mundane, and he wished for a visitor or a party to shake things up. It almost seemed like fate when Mr. Carson announced to them at dinner one evening that there would be a guest in the house soon.

 “An acquaintance of His Lordship named Mr. Kovshenikov,” Carson said, reading off a letter from His Lordship and taking pains with the pronunciation. “From Russia. He’ll be staying for a month, it seems. He has some business to attend to here.”

“What business is he in?” Alfred asked from the middle of the table.

“It’s none of yours, is it?” Thomas retorted. Jimmy smirked.

“Surprisingly enough, I agree with Mr. Barrow,” Carson said from the head of the table. “It’s not our place to ask nosy questions or be a nuisance. It has been some time since we’ve had a long-term guest at Downton, but I expect you’ll all remember how to behave,” he said pointedly.

“Will he be needing a valet, Mr. Carson?” Thomas asked innocently.

“No, it seems Mr. Kovshenikov is bringing his own man along with him,” Carson said, finally sitting down and signaling for them all to begin their dinner.

“Awful long way from Russia,” Anna said.

Various others made their own comments; it wasn’t often that someone from so far away came to visit. The stranger was a point of mystery downstairs in the few days leading up to his arrival, despite Mr. Carson’s insistence that everyone keep their noses out of the gentleman’s business.

* * *

 

“Good thing it’s warmed up a bit, isn’t it?” Jimmy murmured to Thomas as they stood outside the front door to welcome the guest. It was early April, and the trees were just beginning to bloom. It was a beautiful time for someone to visit Downton, Thomas reflected. He seldom got the opportunity to take in the beauty of the estate.

“It certainly is. I hate it when we get visitors in the winter,” Thomas replied, not looking at Jimmy and speaking quietly enough so that no one else heard.

He and Jimmy had developed a knack for clandestine communication; they could express entire sentences with one look. Each man knew the other’s habits, and could tell when he was upset or exhausted. They’d become fast friends, despite everything in the past. The rest of the staff noticed, but never made any insinuations to Jimmy or Thomas. Everyone seemed eager to sweep the Incident under the rug and forget about it.

“Ah, here he is,” came Lord Grantham’s jovial voice. Everyone directed their attention down the driveway to a sleek black car driving up.

Jimmy opened the car door for Mr. Kovshenikov; when the man stepped out, Lord Grantham greeted him with a smile and a handshake. “Alexander, how are you, dear fellow?” he asked.

Alexander Kovshenikov was a solidly-built man of around fifty years. His brown hair was streaked with grey, as was his moustache. He radiated an air of intimidation, despite his smile. Not a man to be taken lightly, Thomas decided. “I am well, Robert. It is wonderful to be here and see your marvelous home,” Kovshenikov said, shaking Lord Grantham’s hand and taking in the imposing stone structure before him. His English was good, with only a slight Russian accent.

Lord Grantham introduced Kovshenikov to his wife and daughters, then finally to Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes. “Please feel free to let us know if there’s anything you require,” Carson said diplomatically.

“Ah, yes, I’ve brought my assistant along; I suppose you’ll want to show him around?” Kovshenikov said. Turning back to the car, he beckoned forward a tall, square-jawed man with dark hair dressed in a plain suit. “Arkady Dmitrich Berezin,” Kovshenikov said, presenting the man. “An apprentice at the firm.”

Mr. Carson and Lord Grantham shared a glance, the latter broaching the subject carefully. “We’ll be sure to find a valet for you, then. Perhaps Mr. Barrow—”

“No, no, that shall not be necessary. I have lived for five years without servants, I will not be needing them now,” Kovshenikov said jovially. There was a tension in the air that Lord Grantham did his best to diffuse the situation, suggesting that they all go inside.

“Я помогу с чемоданами,” Arkady said to Kovshenikov, his voice low.

“Спасибо, товарищ Березин,” came Kovshenikov’s reply as Arkady returned to the car to begin unloading the bags.

Thomas strode over to assist him, giving him a smile. It was part of his job to assist with things like this, but he’d never had help from a guest before. Jimmy seemed similarly confused as he silently helped them carry the bags inside.

While the family entered the house and stood in the front room, the three men carried the suitcases into the house and up to the room that was to be Mr. Kovshenikov’s while he stayed at Downton.

“Thank you for your assistance,” the Russian said to Jimmy and Thomas. His accent was thicker than that of his employer. “My name is Arkady Dmitrich Berezin,” he said, extending his hand first to Thomas. His manner was dignified and proper, but not to the point of haughtiness or coldness, Thomas was happy to note.

“Thomas Barrow,” Thomas said, shaking the man’s hand. He had a firm handshake, Thomas noticed.

“Jimmy Kent. Is this your first time to England?” Jimmy asked as he shook Arkady’s hand.

“Yes, it is. Please excuse me, I do not speak English very well,” he said with a warm smile.

Thomas returned the smile, charmed by the man. “I’m sure you’ll do fine,” he said encouragingly. “I’m not sure what you’ll want to do now,” he said awkwardly. “If you’d like, I can show you downstairs to rejoin with Mr. Kovshenikov—”  

“Please, I would rather go to the downstairs,” Arkady said politely.

Thomas and Jimmy shared a glance between them. “Alright,” Thomas said, leading the way.

“This house is very beautiful,” he said, smiling as he looked around while they walked.

“Trust me, the downstairs is much less impressive,” Jimmy said flatly. The three men made their way down a back staircase to the servants’ hall, where Mr. Carson and a few others were gathered.

“Ah, hello, Mr. Berezin,” Mr. Carson said when he saw them enter the servants’ hall.

Arkady smiled at that. “Hello. I understand that there has been a small miscommunication as to my position,” he said affably.

“Yes, and I do apologize, sir, we’ll have room made up—”

“Please, please,” Arkady interrupted with a laugh. “Do not do that. I am no nobleman. In fact, I would prefer to reside in the downstairs, if that is possible.”

Mr. Carson was clearly at a loss, confused by the cultural differences. Apparently a society without valets and lady’s maids was more than he could fathom. “Well, if you insist, there are rooms in the servants’ quarters,” he offered.

“Thank you. I am sorry to be trouble,” Arkady said with a charming smile. “Please, while I am here, treat me no differently than if I were a valet.”

“As you wish, sir—Mr. Berezin,” Mr. Carson said, quickly correcting himself. “Perhaps Mr. Barrow would like to give you a tour?”

“Yes, that would be nice,” Arkady said, turning to Thomas.

As Carson strode off to attend to some no doubt very important matters, Jimmy sidled up to Thomas. “Don’t forget, I’m scheduled to beat you at cards tonight,” the footman said with a smirk.

Thomas laughed. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Jimmy gave him a genuine smile—the kind where his eyes shone and wrinkled at the corners in the way that Thomas found so endearing—before heading off to attend to his own duties. Downstairs was a flurry of activity with the new arrival. Thomas turned back to Arkady, who was standing up straight with his hands clasped behind his back with an amused expression on his face. “I’ll show you around, then,” Thomas said amicably. The new guest was a charming man who radiated confidence and capability. Despite this self-assuredness, Mr. Berezin did not strike Thomas as the imperious type; he seemed calm and welcoming even in a new place.

The two took a quick tour of the kitchen, servants’ hall, and various storage rooms downstairs before going up to the servants’ sleeping quarters. One of the empty rooms was opened up for Mr. Berezin while he and his employer stayed at Downton.

“It’s not very big, but the beds here are comfortable enough,” Thomas said. It was a sharp contrast to the stately bedrooms upstairs, he knew.

“It is perfect. Thank you for giving me a tour,” Arkady said.

“You’re quite welcome. Any other questions for me, Mr. Berezin?” Thomas asked, standing in a patch of sunlight from the window in the bedroom.

“Please, there is no need to be so formal,” Arkady said. “It is strange to be called ‘Mr. Berezin.’ At home, I am simply called Arkady Dmitrich,” he explained with a small smile. At Thomas’ quizzical look, Arkady explained. “That is the respectful form of address. One’s Christian name and patronymic, father’s name.”

“Ah,” Thomas said. He had little experience with any culture other than his own, but he was willing to learn, and Arkady seemed eager to teach all of his strange ways. “Would you prefer to be called that? I could tell Mr. Carson—“

“No, no, it’s alright. I believe I have imposed upon him enough,” Arkady said with a chuckle. Thomas looked at him in the sunlight, taking in his strong features and tan skin. “What is your father’s name?” Arkady asked him, his eyes shining.

Thomas blinked, rousing and collecting himself. “John,” he answered.

“So you would be called Fomà Ivanich,” Arkady explained to him with a grin.

Thomas chuckled at that. “Well now if I ever go to Russia, I’ll know what to expect. I doubt Mr. Carson would be pleased to hear us calling His Lordship by his first name, though,” he said, earning a laugh from Arkady.

“He is serious about his work, it seems,” Arkady said.

“That’s putting it lightly,” Thomas replied. “We should get back. They’ll be ringing the gong soon, and I’ll have to prepare for dinner.”

It wasn’t until after dinner had been served and everyone went through to the drawing room that Thomas was able to go back downstairs. By then, Arkady had introduced himself to most of the staff, and was sitting in the servants’ hall chatting with various people.

The chatter stopped when Mr. Carson entered. Everyone rose, as usual, as he stood at the head of the table. “Since we’re all together now, I would like to take the opportunity to introduce Mr. Berezin, who will be staying with us for the next month. I’m sure you’ve all been getting to know him already, and I trust you will make him feel most welcome.” Arkady looked around the room with a winning smile, then joined the others in sitting down to dinner. He’d been placed next to Thomas, and the under-butler turned to him happily.

“Been settling in alright?” Thomas asked as dishes were passed around and people served themselves.

“Yes, I have. Everyone is very kind,” Arkady said.

“They must be putting on a good show for you,” Thomas muttered, low enough that no one else would hear.

Arkady chuckled. “Actually, one man – the valet, what is his name?” he asked, leaning in a little.

“Bates,” Thomas said, practically spitting the name out.

“Yes. He told me you are not to be trusted,” Arkady said conspiratorially. He raised an amused eyebrow at Thomas as if demanding an explanation.

Thomas just smiled. “He would say that. What was your response?”

“I told him that I would prefer to make my own bad choice than make someone else’s good choice,” he said pointedly.

He could tell that Arkady was on his side, and Thomas had learned that choosing sides was a crucial part of his job. Inexplicably, it felt nice to know that someone would choose to be his friend rather than listen to the advice of a man like Bates, who was so sickeningly popular.

Arkady’s hands were folded in his lap, which meant that no one saw when he reached under the table and put his hand comfortingly on Thomas’ knee. If Thomas’ face betrayed any shock, he quickly covered it up and slipped back into the unreadable mask he always wore.

“So, Mr. Berezin, are you a servant or a gentleman?” Alfred asked from across the table as they began eating.

Everyone groaned to themself at Alfred’s lack of tact, but Arkady smiled. “I do not think I am either, by your standards. Russia has operated on a different system for some time now,” he explained. “There are no big houses like this anymore. They are split up, and people live together, like in hotels. And the old aristocracy is gone; Russia attempts to make a society without the class structure of European countries.” It was clear that Arkady enjoyed this subject; his eyes shone as he spoke and he used his hands to emphasize his points.

“Even so, I don’t know many people who would trade one of the guest bedrooms for one in the servants’ quarters,” Anna said with a chuckle.

“I could not do that in good conscience,” Arkady said, shaking his head. “That is what I and my countrymen protested against years ago, this very idea that some people live in the upstairs and some live in the downstairs.”

“You were a protester?” Alfred asked, his ears pricking up.

“Yes. To me, it is absurd that the bourgeoisie can live in such abundance while others are stomped down on. These houses and grand families, they are everything we fought against—”

“Alright, now, I think that’s enough,” Mr. Carson said gruffly, unable to abide anyone speaking ill of the family.

“I thought we’d had our fill of politics when Mr. Branson left us,” Mrs. Hughes said, shocked.

“Yeah, well, look where Mr. Branson is now,” Thomas pointed out. “Maybe that’s the secret. Keep doing it, I say.”

“Not at _dinner_ ,” Mr. Carson said firmly.

Arkady grew calm again, seeming to sense that he’d done something wrong. “I apologize,” he said to Mr. Carson.

The rest of dinner was taken up with various people asking Arkady questions that were more innocent. The foreigner came off as the strong, silent type at first, but he was quite charming, Thomas decided. He was endowed with an inherent air of dignity and decorum, but that didn’t stop him from being polite and gracious. Thomas was, obviously, biased when it came to the new man, and not everyone was as charmed as he.

Jimmy sat across the table looking darkly at Arkady. He hardly said anything all through dinner, but his expression said volumes. For once, however, Thomas didn’t notice.

Arkady informed them all that Mr. Kovshenikov (Mr. Carson visibly flinched the first time he’d heard the valet refer to his employer as “Alexander Nikolayevich”) was in the oil business, and had come to England to negotiate with some partners of his.

“Is it as cold as they say it is?” Anna asked him.

“In winter it is terribly cold,” Arkady said, nodding. “I wish that we could have come here in January to avoid it.”

Everyone laughed at that, except for Jimmy who seemed engrossed with pushing his food around his plate.

That night, after everyone upstairs had gone to bed and all the various tasks for the end of the day had been taken care of, Thomas entered the servants’ hall to find Arkady sitting at the table with Alfred and Ivy. Jimmy was seated at the piano, playing softly. Thomas went and took a seat next to Arkady, offering him a cigarette as he took one for himself.

“Thank you,” Arkady said politely, holding it between his lips as Thomas lit it for him. He inhaled, then breathed out a perfect ring of smoke. “Ah. English cigarettes are much better than those in my country,” he said approvingly. He raised an eyebrow and turned his head to look at Jimmy, still at the piano. “Rachmaninov?”  Arkady said, recognizing the tune. Jimmy simply nodded.

“Doesn’t he play wonderfully?” Ivy said happily, looking over at Jimmy’s turned back.

“Yes, he plays very well,” Arkady said, giving a nod of appreciation as he listened.

“Thank you,” Jimmy said stiffly. He finished the song, ignoring the fermatas on the sheet music in front of him. “Thomas, want to play a few hands of cards?” he asked, sweeping his blond hair out of his face.

“If you like,” Thomas answered languidly as he tapped his cigarette against the ashtray. Jimmy stood up from the piano and retrieved the pack of cards. He sat down across from Thomas and began to shuffle them. “Want to play?” Thomas offered Arkady.

Arkady shook his head with a smile. “I am really not good at playing the cards. I will watch, Fomà” he said contentedly.

“What?” Jimmy looked confused upon hearing the name. As he dealt out two hands, Alfred left to go to bed, and Ivy returned to her work.

“Fomà is the Russian for Thomas,” Arkady explained. “Your name would be Yakov, or Yasha. We do not have a ‘j’ sound like English.”

Jimmy wrinkled his nose disapprovingly. “I fancy my own name much better,” he said.

“Really? I think Yasha sounds very cute,” Thomas said teasingly. Arkady laughed, tapping his cigarette into the ashtray. Jimmy scowled and ignored him.

The men played for a little while, Arkady looking over Thomas’ shoulder and smiling as he smoked.

“I think I will go to bed,” he said after a while. “I am tired from traveling.” He stood up and put a hand on Thomas’ shoulder gently. “Thank you for cigarette, Fomà,” he said with a warm smile. He gave Jimmy a nod, which Jimmy reluctantly returned, and left the room, heading upstairs.

Jimmy seemed to relax when Arkady left the room, and it didn’t escape Thomas’ notice. “You don’t like him?” Thomas asked as he took his turn of their game.

“I just met him. We can’t all make such quick decisions as you,” Jimmy said pointedly.

Thomas bristled at that, sensing Jimmy’s hostility. “No need to be snide,” he said.

“Sorry mummy,” Jimmy said with faux innocence. That coaxed a smile out of Thomas, and the two continued their game contentedly. Thomas won, as he did most nights, and only lorded it over Jimmy a little bit.

“I think it’s time to turn in,” Thomas suggested.

“You’re only afraid I’ll beat you next time,” Jimmy teased him as he put the cards away.

“You say that every time we play,” Thomas reminded him. “How many times has it happened?”

The two of them laughed and headed upstairs to the servants’ quarters.

“Goodnight then,” Jimmy said as they reached his door.

“Goodnight, Yasha,” Thomas said with a smirk.


	2. Солнышко

Arkady had become something of a celebrity downstairs. Everyone was intrigued by the rugged, stoic man that had swept in from halfway around the world. At meals, he would often get pulled into telling stories about his homeland and the differences between it and England. He was able to win people over, but never seemed overly friendly or improper. Much to Carson’s delight, he was even willing to help with the odd chore around the house.

“Part of me wishes he didn’t have to leave in a few weeks. He would be a great asset here,” Mr. Carson was overheard telling Mrs. Hughes.

Ivy and some of the maids had taken it upon themselves to show him the charms of English women (despite honest intentions, those plans had quickly been shut down by Mrs. Patmore), but he’d never so much as looked at any of them in a way that was anything more than fraternal. The same couldn’t be said for everyone, however.

Thomas had used to pride himself on being able to pick up signals from people and decide if they were “of his sort.” His confidence in that field had been shaken considerably when he’d made the mistake with Jimmy, but he considered himself wiser now than he had been. There could be no mistaking with Arkady; the man sometimes looked at Thomas like he wanted to devour him. In addition, there were the little touches between them—Arkady would squeeze his shoulder when they met upstairs in the morning, and he often brushed his fingers against Thomas’ hand just a little too long when they exchanged a dish at meals. Thomas knew exactly what was going on, since it was the same behavior he’d displayed with Jimmy a few years back. The results of that liaison had left him much more cautious, and although he never pushed Arkady away or initiated anything, Thomas wondered if it was wise for them to carry on as they did. There was always the chance of someone finding out.

“Fomà,” Arkady greeted him one afternoon as he walked down the hall from Kovshenikov’s room where the two foreigners often met to talk. “Alexander Nikolayevich says that he and his Lordship will be going to London for the day tomorrow,” Arkady reported.

“Ah. That should be exciting for you, seeing the city,” Thomas said appreciatively.

“Нет, I am not going with him, as it is only for one day. I am not needed,” Arkady said hurriedly. “So I will be free here, and you and I will go to town together.”

Thomas laughed at the other man’s excitement and decisiveness. “And what if I have my own work to do?”

“That is no difficulty, as you can ask Mr. Carson for an afternoon off. You work so very hard, and you wouldn’t want to disappoint me, yes?” Arkady asked with feigned sweetness. He couldn’t keep himself from laughing, and Thomas smiled, glad to see him happy.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Thomas said, hoping that he’d be able to convince Mr. Carson. It would be nice to show Arkady around Ripon for the afternoon.

That evening, Thomas broached the subject to Mr. Carson in his office, attempting to be as professional as possible.

“So, you see, he’s asked me to show him the sights, as it were,” Thomas said, presenting his argument as if he were on trial.

“The sights of Ripon? Wouldn’t he rather go to London?” Mr. Carson asked, dumbfounded.

“I suppose not. Big cities aren’t for everyone. He’s only here for two more weeks, after all, and he really should see something of the country, don’t you think?” Thomas asked innocently.

“Well, I suppose you’re right,” Carson agreed reluctantly. “Very well, you may go. Provided you both return by dinnertime.”

Thomas had expected that stipulation, and he was willing to take it. That still gave him and Arkady at least six hours in town. “Thank you, Mr. Carson,” he said graciously before leaving to go find Arkady and tell him the news.

Arkady was sitting in the servant’s hall reading. As usual, a few of the others were in there as well, including Jimmy, who was seated at the piano. Arkady looked up as Thomas entered, seeming to sense his presence. “Well? Did you ask him?”

“I did. He said yes,” Thomas informed him, happily taking the seat next to him.

“What’s this?” Alfred asked, looking up from the newspaper he’d been reading.

“Fomà and I will go to town tomorrow while Lord Grantham and Alexan—and Mr. Kovshenikov are in London,” Arkady informed him, hastily correcting himself and using the conventional form of address for his employer.

“I’m surprised you let him call you that,” came Jimmy’s voice from across the room. “Fomà,” he said with obvious disdain. “You were the one who was so quick to correct everyone when you became ‘Mr. Barrow,’” Jimmy reminded him.

Arkady cut in before Thomas had the chance to speak. “He makes an allowance for me. I am not accustomed to all the different names you English call one another, Mr. Kent,” he said with a smile.

“I’m not Mr. Kent, I’m just Jimmy,” came the reply.

Arkady laughed at that. “Exactly what I mean. I will never understand it,” he confessed, shaking his head and picking up his book again.

“What are you reading?” Thomas asked him, looking curiously at the Cyrillic letters.

“Poetry,” Arkady said, showing him the cover. “Собрание стихов—the collected poems—Александра Пушкина—of Alexander Pushkin,” he declared, pointing at the words and saying them slowly for Thomas’ benefit.

Thomas smiled as he took the book from him and flipped through the pages, looking at the strange words. “Which one is your favorite?” he asked.

Jimmy began playing a slow piece, the kind he’d been playing for the past few nights. Alfred folded up the newspaper and silently headed upstairs, as he was more useless than usual in the morning if he didn’t get enough sleep.

Arkady reached out and took the book from Thomas, letting his fingers brush over the back of his hand just a little too much to be accidental. “I will show you,” he said, flipping through the familiar pages. He smiled when he found the right one. “It is called ‘I Loved You.’”

“Can you translate it for me?” asked Thomas, his voice low enough to not disturb Jimmy at the piano.

“If you like,” Arkady replied. He’d picked up the phrase from Thomas, and had been using it often lately. He cleared his throat dramatically and prepared to read. He underlined the words with his finger as he spoke, pausing often to figure out the words in English. “I loved you, and perhaps the love remains inside my soul, but do not let it trouble you. I do not wish to cause you any sorrow. I loved you without words, without hope. I was tortured by jealousy and shyness. I loved you with a tenderness and purity, and I pray God grants you to be loved like that again.” After he’d translated the words for Thomas, he turned back to him and smiled. “Do you like it?” he asked him. “I am sorry, my English is not good enough to make it sound as beautiful as the original,” he added sheepishly.

“I like it. You made it sound lovely,” Thomas said earnestly, taking a drag from his cigarette.

With a triumphant smile, Arkady plucked the cigarette from between Thomas’ lips and stuck it between his own. “I’m glad,” he said, expertly speaking out of one corner of his mouth. Thomas just chuckled and didn’t bother fighting him for it. “Are you going to bed?” Arkady asked him.

“No. I’m not particularly tired,” Thomas said. Besides, he didn’t want to give up spending time with his new friend.

“Good. Let’s play a game of chess,” Arkady suggested. He wasn’t one for asking nicely when he knew what he wanted, Thomas had noticed.

“I’ve got a set in my room. If you want to wait here, I’ll go—”

“We’ll play upstairs,” Arkady decided. “It’s been too long since I’ve played. You seem like a good opponent, if your victories at cards prove anything,” he said with a smile, looking over at Jimmy teasingly.

Jimmy was either too focused on his music or chose to ignore them. Either way, Thomas and Arkady slipped out and headed upstairs to Thomas’ room. On the way, Thomas snatched the cigarette out of Arkady’s square hand and took a long drag. “I will have to buy my own tomorrow,” Arkady said with a laugh.

“It’s no trouble. Besides, I thought Russians were all about sharing everything,” Thomas said with the smirk that came when he made a good joke.

Arkady laughed dryly. “I do not think you want to get me started on discussing politics.” He smiled as he led the way into Thomas’ room. He’d never been inside before, and he stood in the middle, looking around.

“The table’s a bit small,” Thomas said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. He turned the armchair to face the small end table and clear off space.

“We can play on the floor. That will be easier, perhaps,” Arkady suggested.

Thomas hesitantly agreed, watching as Arkady settled himself onto the hardwood floor. He went to his bureau and retrieved the old chess set, then joined Arkady on the floor. “I feel like a child,” he muttered as the two set everything up.

That amused Arkady. “I wish I saw you as a child. I think you would have been adorable,” he said sincerely.

Thomas laughed, embarrassed. “White or black?” Thomas asked him, changing the subject.

“Black,” Arkady said with a confidence that seemed completely natural.

Their game started out quite well, Thomas told himself. He managed to hold his own for a while, but it quickly became clear that Arkady was far superior. Thomas’ goal changed from winning the game to losing as gracefully as he could. After a while, he simply lay his king down on the board with a sigh. “Congratulations,” Thomas declared. He was the best chess player downstairs, but even he was no match for Arkady, it seemed.

“You play very well,” Arkady said courteously. Thomas scoffed at that and began picking up the chess pieces. “I do mean it,” Arkady assured him, reaching out and gently taking Thomas’ hand. It was the injured one, still wrapped in its glove as it always was. Arkady inspected Thomas’ hand silently, then gently set about loosening the strap and removing the glove. Thomas said nothing, but watched warily. Arkady didn’t ask any questions, just set the glove aside and inspected the injury, being more gentle than Thomas would have thought him capable of.

“It’s a gunshot wound. From the war,” Thomas said quietly.

Arkady said nothing, but reached out to take Thomas’ other hand as well. He held them both palm-up, looking down at Thomas’ calloused hands. “I used to like to listen to the old women at traveling fairs give people palm readings,” he said with a small smile as he remembered. “I used to know what all these different lines meant.” He traced the lines on Thomas’ undamaged palm pensively.

Thomas laughed curtly at that. “And what do you make of this?” he asked, holding out his left hand. The lines on his palm had all been blown away, and the skin was nothing more than a grotesque scar. “Can you tell me my destiny?”

Arkady looked up at him, his eyes sympathetic. “Yes. This means you will have to make your own destiny.” He brought Thomas’ hand to his lips and kissed the palm gently while Thomas watched him in fascination. Arkady stood up, straightening his clothes. “It is late, Fomà. I should go.” Thomas stood as well, his mind reeling as he searched for something to say. “Have good dreams,” Arkady said as he turned and left the room.

Dumbfounded, Thomas stood in the middle of the room for a few moments, staring down at his hand.

* * *

 

The next morning, Thomas ran into Arkady soon after breakfast, when Mr. Kovshenikov and Lord Grantham left.

“I am excited for our outing,” Arkady said as he stopped in the parlor.

Thomas gave him a smile, fighting back the torrent of questions he had about what had happened between them last night. Was Arkady intentionally making advances, or did he not know what he was doing? Thomas was hesitant to assume anything after what had happened between himself and Jimmy; making another mistake like that would certainly get him thrown out of Downton, and possibly thrown in jail. “I’ve only got a few things left to finish up here,” he reported.

“Good. I will meet you downstairs soon,” Arkady said with a grin as he swept passed Thomas and left the room.

Thomas rushed through the remainder of his morning duties and went upstairs to change out of his livery. Soon he returned to the servants’ hall to find Arkady. The man was in the kitchen, helping Daisy wash dishes from luncheon.

“Ah, Fomà, there you are,” he said, drying his hands on a towel. “Daisy, I must leave you,” he said politely.

Daisy smiled and blushed, flattered by the attention of the visitor. “That’s alright. Thanks ever so much for all your help,” she said.

Arkady strode across the floor and joined Thomas in the doorway. “We are going now?” he asked. He wore his usual brown tweed suit, which seemed to illuminate his blue eyes.

Thomas cleared his throat and pulled his thoughts back to the present. “Yes,” he said, heading for the door with his coat over his arm. It was spring, but there was still a chill in the air. Arkady followed him happily like a child being taken on a school trip. It was amusing to see a grown man, especially one as outwardly imposing as Arkady usually was, practically skipping out the door into the courtyard.

“What is funny?” Arkady asked him once they were outside.

“Nothing,” Thomas said quickly, but was unable to keep himself from grinning. “You. I’ve never seen someone so excited to see a village town. I would’ve thought you’d jump at the chance to go to London.”

“Why would I?” Arkady asked with a shrug. “You are not going to London.”

Thomas laughed nervously. There it was again—Arkady saying little things like that, making Thomas wonder what was going on between them. He wouldn’t mind something more than friendship, it had been a long while, after all, but a voice in the back of his head told him it was too risky.

“I’m flattered you’re so excited about spending time with me, then. You’re probably the only one,” Thomas said before he could stop himself. He winced slightly; he always tried not to say things like that, but sometimes his thoughts spilled out before he had a chance to check them.

“I doubt that is true,” Arkady reassured him. “Yasha seems to enjoy your company,” he pointed out. “Mrs. Anna said that you two are unseperate-able.”

Thomas grew quiet for a minute. He and Jimmy hadn’t spoken very often since Arkady had arrived. Jimmy clearly didn’t like the Russian, and Thomas didn’t want to force all three of them to be together if it would be awkward. Besides, he reasoned to himself, Arkady was only here for two and a half more weeks, whereas Jimmy would be at Downton for years, probably. _It’s not like I’m choosing between them_ , Thomas told himself. _I don’t need to choose. They’re both my friends._ “Well, anyway, you’re different,” Thomas said with a shrug. He pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and offered one to Arkady, who happily took it.

They walked down the road towards town looking around at the lovely springtime around them. “This place is very beautiful,” Arkady said, blowing a smoke ring into the air.

Thomas had seen these sights a hundred times, but he tried to imagine seeing it for the first time, like Arkady was. “Yes, I suppose it is,” he conceded, exhaling his own smoke. He’d sat up in his room one night trying to teach himself to blow smoke rings, but had never been able to get it, and was too shy to ask for lessons on something so stupid.

“I’m not sure what you want to see first,” Thomas said as they walked down a narrow lane. “There are some shops and cafes, and a nice pub,” he said, trying to think of what they could see. He didn’t want to seem like a bad host, but he would be content to just sit in a park somewhere and chat.

“Let’s go this way,” Arkady said decisively. He left the path and began to walk towards an old barn in the field to their right.

“What are you doing?” Thomas asked as he followed him. Surely there were more interesting things to see.

“Trust me. Come,” was all Arkady said in response. As they walked, Thomas looked around, hoping that no one would see them trespassing. No one was around, thankfully, and Arkady smiled mischievously at him as he led the way inside the barn.

It seemed to have fallen into disuse, and was nothing more than storage now. There was an abundance of straw still left from last autumn’s harvest, but other than that, the only things inside were old crates farm tools. “What are we doing here? Do they not have barns in Russia?” Thomas asked him, keeping his voice low. Sun streaked in through the wooden slats of the walls and roof, but the light was rather dim.

“They do, which is how I know that they are often private places,” Arkady said. He smiled comfortingly at Thomas, and looked almost shy, like the day he’d first arrived at Downton. “Fomà…I do not think I can wait for you to find your courage and initiate something,” Arkady said.

Thomas’ heart skipped a beat, and his carefully composed expression gave way to one of confusion. “Initiate what?” he asked, sirens going off in his head. He had to be reading too much into this. There was no way that someone like Arkady would ever feel that way about _him_ , and after everything with Jimmy—

Arkady took a step closer to him, but somehow Thomas managed to stand his ground and not dissolve into a stuttering mess. “You know what.” Arkady’s voice was dark and quiet, and Thomas briefly entertained the absurd thought that if candlelight could talk, it would sound like Arkady’s voice at that moment. The thought was cut off by the man taking another step closer, closing the gap between them, and solidly kissing Thomas’ lips.

Thomas’ eyes instinctively fluttered closed. It took him a moment to wrap his mind around what was happening, but when he did, he leaned in hesitantly. Arkady pulled away and looked at him with an almost smug smile.

“I want you very badly, you know,” Arkady whispered. He wrapped one arm around Thomas’ waist and pulled him closer. “Say something, Fomà,” he prompted him gently.

The fog that had enveloped Thomas’ mind lifted, and he pressed himself against Arkady eagerly.

“I want you too.”

Arkady grinned before kissing him again deeply, wasting no time. He nipped at Thomas’ lips and pressed his tongue into the other man’s mouth, all the while holding him with his strong arms.

For once, Thomas let his guard down and gave himself over completely. It had been some time since he’d done anything like this, and Arkady was phenomenal. Thomas broke the kiss to get his breath back and tilted his head upwards to exhale shakily. Arkady began kissing along Thomas’ jawline and down his neck. Thomas closed his eyes, feeling blissful, but after a moment he wanted more. He recaptured Arkady’s lips with his own, feeling the brush of the man’s stubble against his cheeks.

Arkady moved his hands up to Thomas’ shoulders and unceremoniously pulled of Thomas’ suit jacket. From there, he made short work of undoing Thomas’ tie and shirt buttons. Thomas took the cue and began similarly undressing Arkady.

The two men caught each other’s eye and smiled, not needing words of either language to communicate how enraptured they were.

Stripping Thomas of his shirt, Arkady resumed kissing down the length of Thomas’ neck, stopping at his collarbone to suck a dark red mark into the skin where no one would see it. He ran his hands over Thomas’ hairy chest almost reverently before following suit with his lips, kissing a winding trail downward until he was kneeling on the dirt floor in front of Thomas.

Thomas looked down at him, already half-hard with anticipation. The only thought in his mind was how badly he wanted Arkady. He reached down and tugged at the buttons on his trousers, but Arkady brushed his hands away and took over the task himself. Thomas kicked off his shoes and socks and stepped out of his trousers, eager for more contact between the two of them. Arkady nuzzled him teasingly through the thin fabric of his pants for a moment, eliciting a soft moan from Thomas above him.

That seemed to encourage Arkady, and he slowly tugged down Thomas’ pants so that he was completely naked. He kissed the insides of Thomas’ thighs and his hip bones, savoring every bit of him. Thomas rested his hand on Arkady’s muscular shoulder for support and bit his lip as he looked down at him. Arkady met the gaze as he took Thomas in hand and began stroking his cock, first slowly then building up to a steady rhythm. He rested his other hand on Thomas’ hip, gently squeezing the soft skin there.

Thomas fought to keep his composure, trying to find a balance between letting Arkady know how much he enjoyed the touches and not seeming overeager.

The scales were tipped when Arkady finally took Thomas’ cock into his mouth; Thomas let out a loud moan, reveling in the feeling. Arkady’s eyes shone as he looked up at Thomas, swirling his tongue around him and kissing the head of his cock. Arkady held onto Thomas’ hips, keeping him from upright as he continued his ministrations. He bobbed his head up and down, moaning softly and sending vibrations over Thomas’ skin.

“A-arkady…” Thomas gasped shakily, moving his hand to grip the valet’s dark hair. Arkady responded with only another moan that sent shivers down Thomas’ spine. The movement stopped, and Thomas opened his eyes, forlorn at the absence of such pleasure.

Arkady stood up, crushing their mouths together as he gripped Thomas’s pale skin. Thomas returned the kisses eagerly, fumbling with the fastening on Arkady’s trousers as he did so. He wanted to reciprocate all the pleasure he’d just received. Arkady undressed his lower half quickly, grinning at Thomas as he did so.

Sinking to his knees, Thomas wasted no time in beginning to kiss Arkady all over, licking a long stripe up the underside of the man’s cock. Thomas took him into his mouth, reaching up to run his fingers over Arkady’s balls as he did so. He was rewarded by hearing Arkady moan, the noise low and resonating in his chest. Thomas sucked him off eagerly, his mind oblivious to every thought except for pleasuring Arkady and getting pleasure in return.

“Боже мой…!” Arkady groaned, his pupils blown wide with desire. With some effort, he pulled Thomas up, securely wrapping one arm around his waist. He kissed him messily, reaching a hand down between them and taking both their cocks in hand. Thomas moaned against his lips needily, a noise which only seemed to arouse Arkady more. “Come here,” Arkady said brusquely, stooping to pick up his discarded jacket before pulling Thomas towards a pile of straw that had been left in the corner of the barn. He laid the jacket down, then gently pushed Thomas down so that they lay together.

“I don’t know how to say all the things I want to do with you,” Arkady murmured as he kissed every inch of Thomas’ skin he could reach.

Thomas felt positively delirious from the pleasure, and grasped at the other man’s body, pulling him closer. “I think I understand,” Thomas said breathlessly.

Arkady smiled at him before ducking down and situating himself between Thomas’ legs. Thomas obligingly spread his legs apart for him. Arkady kissed up the inside of his thigh, then kissed his hole greedily. Thomas gasped, arching his back and clutching a fistful of Arkady’s hair as he felt the man’s tongue against him, stretching him out.

Arkady soon pulled away, looking up at Thomas through his heavy lashes as he swirled his tongue around his finger. Thomas watched, transfixed, and moaned loudly when he felt the man’s thick index finger inside him. Thomas took a moment to get used to the feeling, then slowly began to move his hips forward and back, silently begging for more.

The Russian obliged him, moving his finger deeper inside him with quick strokes.

“Oh, god, I want you. I want you so badly,” Thomas whined, his hands grasping at Arkady’s back in order to touch some part of him.

Arkady gave the inside of Thomas’ thigh one last kiss before pulling his finger away, his lust making him less careful than usual. He positioned himself over Thomas, their faces inches apart. Thomas stretched up to kiss him, and waited for what felt like an eternity before he felt Arkady’s cock pressing inside him.

The two men both made noises of pleasure, Thomas scrabbling to wrap his arms around Arkady’s neck and pull him down close. The under-butler was usually so composed and had built up such a careful mask, but it was all gone now. Now, Thomas was moaning lewdly as he felt another man’s cock filling him, and all he cared about was _more_.

Arkady moved his hips slowly once Thomas had gotten accustomed to the feeling, then built up his motions until he was thrusting inside him fast enough for sweat to form on his brow.

“Ты нужен мне, Фома,” Arkady growled, his voice turned from candlelight to lightning.

“Christ, harder,” Thomas muttered, pushing his hips down onto Arkady’s cock. He didn’t care that he couldn’t understand what the other man was saying; Thomas knew how he felt.

Arkady wrapped his strong fingers around Thomas’ cock and moved his hand in short strokes. It didn’t take much longer before Thomas came, arching his back and crying out loudly. Arkady finished soon after him, then collapsed next to Thomas to catch his breath.

Arkady held Thomas to him, and Thomas was all too happy to lay next to him, catching his breath and coming down from the high. He reached out and lightly traced the muscles of Arkady’s arm with his fingertips. Hidden beneath his clothes as they usually were, Thomas had never noticed just how strong the other man looked.

Pulling him out of his reverie, Arkady gently nuzzled his nose against Thomas’ neck, then gave his jaw a kiss. “Was that as good as your moans suggested?” he asked teasingly, already knowing the answer.

Thomas smiled at him, their faces only inches apart as they lay together on the straw. “Better,” he said appreciatively. He leaned in and gave Arkady a tender kiss, running his hand through the other man’s mussed hair.

“I am glad, солнышко,” Arkady whispered intimately.

“What does that mean?” Thomas asked him softly.

“It is like…the sun. Like you are the brightest, most beautiful thing in the whole world,” Arkady explained.

Thomas blushed and looked away, but couldn’t hide a smile. Arkady saw he was pleased and kissed his cheek with a happy sigh. The two of them lay together for a while, and Thomas felt like time had stopped just for them. It hadn’t, he knew, so eventually he reluctantly pulled himself away from Arkady’s embrace.

“We should get dressed,” he suggested, going to pick up his clothes, hoping they weren’t too dirty.

They both dressed, finding that Arkady’s jacket was miraculously undamaged. They smoothed each other’s hair, and Thomas offered Arkady his last cigarette before they left the barn.

“Now you see why I was so excited for this afternoon?” Arkady asked him as they walked toward the village. They still had several hours before they had to return to Downton, but Thomas found he was less concerned with what they did in that time. He’d already had one of the best afternoons in recent memory.

Thomas chuckled, reaching out and taking the cigarette from between Arkady’s fingers. “I didn’t know you’d been planning that,” he confessed, taking a long drag. “What would you have done if I hadn’t wanted to do it?”

Arkady rolled his eyes at that. “Fomà, please. You are not as mysterious as you think you are,” Arkady told him.

Their first stop was at a small shop to buy cigarettes. After that, Thomas took him to a pub where they had a drink. Afterwards, as they walked down the street, Arkady pulled him into an alley and kissed him until he was breathless before smirking and moving away, back out into the road, leaving Thomas to catch up.

They sat on a bench in the park for a while, chatting about anything that came to mind.

Thomas could tell that Arkady genuinely liked him, not just lusted after him. The thought was touching; it had been ages since Thomas had even suspected that someone cared for him in the way Arkady seemed to.

“It is getting late, солнышко,” Arkady observed after a while. “We should return.”

“Alright,” Thomas said, regretting it. It wasn’t feasible, but he wished they could have more time to themselves like this.

They arrived back at Downton exactly on time, despite stopping several times along the way in order to duck out of sight and kiss fervently.

“Well? Did you two have a nice time?” Anna asked them later that evening at dinner.

“Yes, very nice,” Arkady said with a charming smile. “Thomas showed me things I don’t even know the names of.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The text (in English and Russian) of Pushkin's "I Loved You Once", along with a recording, can be found here: http://max.mmlc.northwestern.edu/~mdenner/Demo/texts/loved_you_once.htm


	3. Яша

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of April 3rd, I went back and edited chapters one and two to fix some glaring factual inaccuracies. I'd suggest going back and rereading them, as there have been substantial changes. Thanks to alratan on tumblr for helping me out.  
> TLDR: Arkady is Kovshenikov's business partner and a staunch supporter of socialism.

Arkady had grown to love the time after everyone upstairs went to bed. That was when the downstairs staff congregated in the servants’ hall to talk or play chess. It was relaxing after a long day of running through the large house, and he usually got to see Thomas at that time.

The evening after he and Thomas went into town, Mr. Carson requested for the under-butler to take inventory of something or other. Arkady didn’t pay much attention other than to come to the conclusion that he wouldn’t be able to see Thomas for a while. That didn’t especially bother him, though, as he enjoyed the company of the other staff as well, just not to the same degree.

Arkady sat in the servants’ hall with his book, eschewing the newspaper after realizing how many words he didn’t understand. He wandered into the kitchen, having learned that there was always tea there in the evenings to which people could help themselves. He smiled at Daisy as he entered, and she shyly returned the expression.

“Did you have a good time in town today, Mr. Berezin?” she asked, wringing her hands as she wiped them on a towel.

“Yes, I did,” Arkady said happily, pouring himself a cup of tea.

“That’s good. Only, because Jimmy was so awful about it,” Daisy confided.

Arkady raised an eyebrow at that. “Why was he awful?” he asked, his interest piqued.

Daisy seemed to lose her confidence at that, loath to gossip. “Well, he said that…um, that Thomas didn’t really need to go with you? I think he was jealous.”

“Of course Thomas needed to accompany me. I could have gotten lost,” Arkady said with a smile. “Why would that make Jimmy jealous? Does he not like to share his friends?”

Daisy bit her lip, looking around for eavesdroppers. “He cares about Thomas a lot, I think. Even if he pretends he doesn’t. And Thomas obviously cares about him as well, after everything that happened—” she stopped abruptly and blushed a deep red, knowing she’d said too much. “I’ve got to get back to work,” she said timidly.

“Okay. Thank you for the tea,” Arkady said, smiling as he carried his cup back to the servants’ hall.

Jimmy was there, seated at the piano, looking incredibly bored while plucking out a tune.

“Hello, Yasha,” Arkady said, striding up to stand by his side.

“I told you not to call me that,” Jimmy said by way of greeting.

Arkady frowned. “I am sorry,” he said.

Jimmy huffed out a sigh. “It’s fine. Did you and Thomas have fun?” he asked tersely.

“Yes, we did,” Arkady replied, conscious of the fact that Jimmy wasn’t looking at him, even though he was no longer playing piano. “Are you feeling well? You look a little…” Arkady trailed off, his voice laden with concern.

“I’m fine,” Jimmy said stiffly.

Arkady tilted his head curiously as he looked down at Jimmy. “Are you certain?” he asked, leaning in a little so they could speak more quietly. “Excuse me, but I heard that you were upset today.”

Jimmy whirled around to face him, a flash of anger on his face. “Why would I be upset?” Arkady did nothing but arch an eyebrow, cool in the face of Jimmy’s anger. Arkady just raised an eyebrow, and Jimmy blushed as he realized he’d proved the other man’s point. “I’m fine,” Jimmy mumbled again.

“What is between you and Fomà?” Arkady asked him gently.

Jimmy scowled, unwilling to discuss his personal life with a stranger. “Why would you think there’s something between us?” he asked hotly. “We’re _friends_.”

“Only friends?”

“Shut it, will you? What right have you got to pry into my life? You don’t know anything about it,” Jimmy hissed at him, standing up and glaring at Arkady icily. With that, he stormed out of the servants’ hall.

Arkady sighed and went to sit down at the table again, knowing it wouldn’t do any good to follow Jimmy.

That night, as he was getting ready for bed, Arkady heard a soft knock on his door. He opened it to reveal Thomas standing there in his shirtsleeves, looking timid. Arkady smiled and stepped aside, ushering him in. He shut the door behind Thomas, then wrapped his arms around him.

“You missed me this evening?” Arkady asked him cheekily.

“Maybe a little,” Thomas said. He couldn’t hide his smile, and he leaned in to kiss Arkady deeply.

“More than a little, it seems,” Arkady said when they broke the kiss. He laughed and guided Thomas to the bed, where they lay down together, pressed together on the small mattress.

“I feel like I imagined everything,” Thomas confessed to him.

Arkady kissed his forehead. “I assure you, you did not.” They lay together contentedly for a while, savoring the time they could spend together in secret. “I spoke with Yasha,” Arkady said after a moment.

Thomas seemed to freeze in his arms before looking up at Arkady. “About what?”

“He asked if we had a good time today. I told him we did,” Arkady said simply. “And I asked him why he looked unhappy. He did not answer me, but I think I can guess a reason,” Arkady said, trying to handle the situation delicately.

Thomas pressed in to him a little, unconsciously seeking comfort. He knew it was rude of him to abandon Jimmy in favor of the new visitor, but he couldn’t help it. _It’s not like I’m only allowed one friend,_ Thomas thought to himself.

“You two were once together?” Arkady asked him gently.

Thomas shook his head, all the memories of what had happened two years ago flooding back to him. “No. I was just stupid, that’s all,” Thomas said.

He told Arkady everything. About O’Brien’s meddling, the kiss, the fair, the cricket match… Arkady listened interestedly, holding Thomas all the while.

“Oh, солнышко,” Arkady said when Thomas had finished telling the story. “I am sorry you had to endure that.”

Thomas felt a shade of sadness, but it also felt comforting to tell someone, especially someone who understood as well as Arkady. “It’s alright. It’s all done now,” Thomas said, trying to shake off the melancholy.

“So why is Yasha so upset now? It should be none of his concern if we are together,” Arkady pointed out.

“Did you tell him?” Thomas asked, his head shooting up from where it rested on Arkady’s shoulder.

“No,” the other man said simply.

Thomas felt a pang of guilt for being so accusatory. He knew that Arkady wasn’t reckless enough to go spreading the story of what they’d done. “Okay,” Thomas said, lying down again.

“You should speak with him,” Arkady said gently, brushing Thomas’ dark hair away from his eyes.

“I think that might only make it worse,” Thomas mumbled.

“It will not make it worse. He is lonely, I think. You two are good friends, yes?” Arkady insisted.

“Yeah, but…” Thomas began. He stopped himself, realizing he was dangerously close to whining like a petulant child. “Not tonight,” he said simply.

“No. Tonight, you will stay with me,” Arkady said happily, leaning down to kiss him.

They lay close to each other, intermittently talking and kissing. Two hours later, Thomas looked at the clock and groaned.

“I’ll never get any sleep if I stay with you,” he chided Arkady.

The Russian pouted at him teasingly. “You will leave me?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. And god knows I’ll probably be back tomorrow night,” Thomas said with a smile.

That pleased Arkady, and the two of them got up, Thomas heading for the door. Arkady grabbed his wrist, pulling him back into an embrace. He kissed Thomas deeply, smiling against the other man’s lips. When he pulled away, Arkady rested his forehead on Thomas’ and closed his eyes contentedly. “Goodnight, Fomà,” he whispered.

“You’re making it extremely difficult to leave, you know,” Thomas murmured, his hands around Arkady’s waist. He gave the Russian one more kiss, then forced himself to step away, towards the door. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said before leaving the room.

The corridor felt lonely and oppressively silent. Thomas returned to his own cold bed, his head filled with thoughts of Arkady and the day they’d had together. He tried his best not to think about Jimmy, but he couldn’t resist a nagging voice in the back of his mind that said he was being a horrible friend. Resolving to think things over more carefully in the morning, Thomas fell asleep.

The next morning as Thomas came downstairs for breakfast, he met Jimmy in the corridor.

“Good morning,” Thomas said with what he hoped was a friendly smile.

Jimmy’s face darkened when he saw Thomas. “I want to talk to you,” he said flatly.

Thomas felt a sense of foreboding at that: obviously Jimmy wasn’t in a good mood. “Alright,” not allowing himself to show his nervousness.

Jimmy led him away from the servants’ hall, down the corridor to where they wouldn’t be overheard. He glared at Thomas, clearly upset, before speaking. “Did you and he… Are you…?” he began, fumbling over the words. “What happened yesterday?” Jimmy finally demanded.

Thomas arched an eyebrow at him, not enjoying the unfounded anger in his friend’s tone. “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern,” Thomas shot back.

“So something did happen between you two,” Jimmy said, taking a guess at the reason for Thomas’ defensiveness.

Not seeing any way to get out of the argument, Thomas sighed. “Yes, alright, but it really isn’t any of your business, is it?” he said scathingly.

“What, am I not allowed to care about my best mate’s life?” Jimmy asked, wounded. Thomas just glared at him. “I’m not going to tell anyone,” Jimmy insisted. “I wouldn’t.”

“Then why do you care?” Thomas asked, unable to not feel like he was under scrutiny.

“I just…was wondering, is all,” Jimmy said, backing down. “I noticed you two were spending a lot of time together, is all. I mean, I’ve hardly seen you for the past two weeks,” he added, mumbling.

Something in Thomas’ head clicked upon hearing those words. Jimmy _missed_ him. “Oh,” was all that Thomas could manage to say. He’d somehow never guessed that Jimmy would care so much about their friendship.

“Ah, there you two are,” came Mr. Carson’s booming voice from down the corridor. “It seems that His Lordship has invited some guests for dinner this evening,” he said, approaching them and effectively ending the awkward conversation.

Mr. Carson proceeded to give them directions about that night’s dinner, then ushered them to breakfast. Thomas and Jimmy exchanged glances across the table, each doing his best to smile at the other.

Thomas mentally kicked himself for being such a bad friend; he’d work so hard to build up the friendship between himself and Jimmy, and now he’d nearly ruined it in favor of Arkady. He resolved to be kinder to Jimmy for the rest of Arkady’s visit. If there was one thing he didn’t want, it was Jimmy thinking he didn’t value their friendship.

In the middle of breakfast, one of the younger maids came scampering down the stairs, a look of pure terror on her face. Before anyone had time to ask the girl what was wrong, Kovshenikov appeared in the doorway. Mr. Carson bolted to his feet, surprised by the sudden appearance of a guest downstairs.

“Good morning, sir,” Mr. Carson said as everyone else rose.

“Hello,” Kovshenikov said with a smile. “I had a terrible time finding my way down here. I had this little girl show me the way,” he said, clapping her on the back with a force that did nothing to abate her obvious timorousness.

“Is there something we can help you with?” Mr. Carson asked him politely.

“I am here to see Arkady Dmitrich, that is all,” Kovshenikov said, scanning the table briefly before locking eyes with his assistant. “You have avoided us upstairs for much of the visit. Join us, we have much to discuss.”

Arkady looked disappointed to have to leave, but he didn’t want to cause any trouble with his employer in front of everyone. “As you wish,” he said, his face blank as he hid his emotions. Thomas knew that he didn’t want to go; his outburst from his first night at Downton had made his position on grand families like these painfully obvious. Arkady glanced at Thomas for a second before leaving the table and following Kovshenikov back upstairs like a schoolboy being lead to the headmaster’s office for punishment.

Mr. Carson lead them all in sitting down again, and a thick air of awkwardness pervaded the room while everyone held back their opinions on what had just happened. It wasn’t every day that a guest would rather spend time with the servants than upstairs. Arkady had almost become one of them, but this seemed to serve as a reminder of his inherent and confounding difference.

No one saw Arkady downstairs all day. Thomas tried not to be too concerned about it – after all, as Kovshenikov’s business associate, he belonged upstairs – but he couldn’t help himself. There was always a chance that sentiments like those Arkady had shown at dinner that first evening might crop up again and spur an argument. The Russian clearly didn’t care for Lord Grantham’s way of life, and wasn’t afraid to say as much.

The men spent most of the day in the library talking over various business matters, and Thomas assumed that things must be going well if no one had burst out of the room in a rage.

Arkady was invited (or, more accurately, ordered) to dine with the family that evening, a fact which gave Thomas no small sense of uneasiness. Several important guests had been invited on the pretext of meeting the Russian oil magnate, and Thomas wondered if Arkady would be overwhelmed by such a display of aristocracy.

That evening, Arkady appeared to dinner in one of his customary plain suits. There were titters among the guests, but Arkady politely refused to change when Lord Grantham suggested he borrow a set of tails.

“No thank you,” Arkady said with a tight smile. “I would not like to do that.”

During dinner, much to Mr. Carson’s silent horror, Tom managed to steer the conversation toward the current state of Russian politics.

“It must be something of a shock to you, coming to a place like this,” Tom said empathetically.

“Yes, it is. I have felt more at ease in the company of those downstairs,” Arkady confided. He’d been summoned upstairs to discuss business with Kovshenikov several days during the visit, but for the most part, Arkady had remained downstairs reading or chatting with the staff.

“You and I are birds of a feather, it seems,” Tom said with a laugh. “I used to be a chauffer here before I married Lady Sybil.”

“Perhaps you should find yourself a nice English girl to marry,” one of the other guests suggested with a hearty laugh.

“I very much doubt I will do that,” Arkady said with a smile. His eyes scanned the room, and it was no accident that they locked with Thomas’ for a brief moment.

“Yes, Tom used to be quite volatile whenever the subject of Irish independence came up,” Lady Mary said with a charming smile at her brother-in-law.

“Lucky for all of us that toned down,” Lord Grantham said with a laugh. Tom did his best to smile, but looked obviously uncomfortable.

“Yes, it is good luck that you all in your big houses are still able to ignore the problems of the world,” Arkady said brightly, his tone sarcastic.

Most of the table was stunned into an uncomfortable silence, which only lasted a second before the Dowager Countess muttered to her son, “Are we really going to rehash all these old Socialist arguments?”

“Товарищ Березин, ведите себя прилично!” Kovshenikov hissed at the young man.

Arkady’s jaw was set, and he looked like he might boil over any minute. “Я не забуду то, за что я сражался, _госродин_ Ковшеников,” Arkady replied scathingly. With that, he got up from the table. “Excuse me,” he said perfunctorily to those still seated as he left the room.

“Please forgive my associate,” Kovshenikov said hurriedly.

“Of course,” Lord Grantham said magnanimously.

The dinner went on as planned, with no more unsavory conversation topics. Thomas and Jimmy exchanged glances when Arkady stormed out, but neither man was able to voice his thoughts until much later, when dinner was concluded.

“Are you going to talk to him?” Jimmy asked Thomas as they headed downstairs.

“I think I should, just to see if he’s alright,” Thomas said. Arkady had been on his mind for the remainder of the meal, and Thomas fully intended to check on him.

The Russian wasn’t in the servants’ hall, but everyone seemed to have heard of his outburst.

“It was simply disrespectful, saying things like that in front of His Lordship,” Mr. Carson fumed to Mrs. Hughes.

Thomas knew in his heart that Carson had a point, but he was far more inclined to take Arkady’s side. He went up to the servants’ bedrooms, knocking gently at Arkady’s door.

“It’s me,” Thomas said quietly, wondering what sort of mood Arkady would be in.

Arkady answered the door, a look of defensive anger on his face that Thomas knew well. He pulled Thomas into the bedroom and shut the door behind him before burying his face in Thomas’ shoulder.

Instinctively, Thomas hugged Arkady, not saying anything for fear of making the situation worse.

“I am not sorry about what I said, Fomà,” Arkady eventually mumbled. “Lives like theirs are everything my people fought against. Do you understand this?”

“I do,” Thomas said warily.

“But you still think I am wrong,” Arkady said sadly. He sighed and stood up straight, taking Thomas’ hand and leading him to the bed. “I do feel badly for making trouble,” he confessed. “I was too angry, perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” Thomas echoed, giving him a small smile. “I’m sure His Lordship wasn’t expecting an ideological dispute over dinner.”

Arkady smiled resignedly. “I have been thinking. I will apologize for yelling, and for leaving the dinner. But I will not apologize for my ideas,” he said firmly.

“Fair enough,” Thomas said, taking Arkady’s hand. “I never knew you were so political.”

Smiling at the touch, Arkady nodded. “My friends and I, we took part in several of the protests years ago.”

“Then how did you end up working for Kovshenikov?” Thomas asked. The two foreigners didn’t strike Thomas as being much alike; hardly the types to go into business together.

“He is a distant relation. He gave me this job working for him at the request of my mother. It is good job, but I do not enjoy it,” Arkady confessed.

Thomas smiled at him. “After you apologize to His Lordship, maybe you can ask to work here.”

That made Arkady laugh aloud. “I do not think so, солнышко,” he said with a shake of his head before kissing Thomas on the lips gently.

Thomas eagerly returned the kiss, happy to have smoothed over the situation. There was a time and place to talk about politics, and Arkady’s bedroom when they were all alone was neither.

Just as Arkady began to pull Thomas closer to him, there was a knock on the door. With a little huff, Arkady broke the kiss and stood up. Thomas remained on the bed, which luckily could not be seen from the doorway.

“Yasha,” Arkady said in surprise as he opened the door to reveal Jimmy standing at the threshold, trying to not look nervous.

“I just came up to see if you were alright,” Jimmy said, clearing his throat.

Arkady took a step back, ushering Jimmy into his room. Jimmy immediately saw Thomas sitting on the Russian’s bed, but before Jimmy could say anything, Arkady began speaking. “Fomà talked to me and made me not angry,” he explained.

“Well, that was good of Fomà,” Jimmy said, looking over at Thomas with an odd expression on his face. “Dinner’s going to be served soon, if you want to come down,” he added.

“Alright,” Thomas said, standing up and straightening his clothes.

Jimmy turned and left the room, and Thomas made to follow him. Before he got to the door, Arkady grabbed Thomas’ wrist and gave him a quick kiss. Thomas blushed, looking up furtively to make sure Jimmy hadn’t seen anything. The footman hadn’t, and Thomas gave Arkady a mock-stern look before he led him into the corridor by the hand. Thomas wished that he and Arkady could openly hold hands as they walked down to the servants’ hall, but that was extremely ill-advised. He put a bit of distance between himself and Arkady so he wouldn’t be tempted, then followed Jimmy downstairs.

They seated themselves at the table, and it wasn’t until then that Thomas noticed Arkady wasn’t next to him. “Where did Arkady go?” he asked Jimmy.

Jimmy fought not to roll his eyes at the question. “I’m sure he can take care of himself,” he said flatly.

Thomas frowned, and would have made a comment, but thought better of it. It was probably better to not push the subject.

Mr. Carson entered, Arkady trailing behind him. Everyone stood respectfully, and Arkady took his place next to Thomas. Mr. Carson lead them in sitting down, and dinner was served. Arkady’s outburst was likely common news downstairs by now, but thankfully no one mentioned it.

“I apologized to Mr. Carson,” Arkady whispered to Thomas. “I didn’t think it wise to have him angry with me.”

Thomas smirked. “Yeah, good idea.” He hadn’t expected Arkady to swallow his pride and apologize for his actions so quickly.

“I hope you do not think less of me for what happened,” Arkady said. Thomas could swear he saw a hint of nervousness in the Russian’s eyes.

“Of course I don’t,” Thomas said, giving him a comforting smile. Arkady returned the expression and gently squeezed Thomas’ thigh under the table before turning back to his food.

Jimmy, across the table, had witnessed their whole exchange. He hadn’t been able to hear them over the chatter of the others, but he’d seen the looks they’d given each other. His chest felt tight as he thought about the look in Thomas’ eyes when he looked at Arkady. There was something between the two of them, Jimmy knew. Something that could never happen between himself and Thomas. Jimmy pushed his food around his plate listlessly and went up to his room soon after dinner.

Any chance of his friendship with Thomas developing into something more seemed to be gone. Everything that they’d established had melted away when Arkady arrived. Thomas couldn’t possibly care about him that much if he abandoned him at the drop of a hat. Jimmy changed into his pajamas and sat on the edge of his bed, an emptiness in his heart. He’d never known it was possible to miss someone when they lived just down the hall.


	4. до свидания

The next few days seemed to speed by. Arkady apologized to Lord Grantham, who assured him there was no hard feelings. The Russian confessed privately to Thomas that he knew it was a lie, however: Lord Grantham was probably just too polite to kick him out for his political views.

“I don’t think they like me very much,” Arkady confided to Thomas one night.

“Who?”

“The family. Lord Grantham, his wife, everyone else… And Mr. Carson.” Arkady sighed, and Thomas felt the other man’s chest rise as they lay together in Arkady’s bed.

“What do you need them to like you for? It’s not a popularity contest,” Thomas reminded him.

Arkady gently traced circles against the skin of Thomas’ back. “I suppose you are right. As long as you like me,” he said with a smirk.

Thomas smiled and leaned in, kissing him tenderly. “I certainly do.”

The two had made love twice since going into the village together. Both times had been late at night in Arkady’s room, with the two of them forced to keep quiet so as to not wake anyone else, despite Arkady’s bedroom being one of the last in the corridor, farthest from Carson.

Arkady had spent most of his days upstairs, chatting politely with the family and Kovshenikov. It took a toll on him, biting his tongue about his political beliefs for so long. The Russian had found a kindred spirit in Branson, and those two spent many mornings talking together about the state of modern socialism, much to everyone else’s horror.

The visit was, all in all, going smoothly after the initial bump at dinner. Arkady sometimes grumbled privately to Thomas about the way things were done in England, but overall he tried not to be a bother. Thomas readily agreed with him most of the time; he’d always hated the fact that he was never considered to be as important as others just because he was in service.

One morning, as Thomas dressed himself, it struck him that Arkady would be gone in just a few days. His heart sank, and he wondered what the two of them would do when Arkady had to return home. It wasn’t until that evening that Thomas was able to speak with Arkady. The Russian had spent the day upstairs again, talking with Kovshenikov and a few other men who had come to Downton to discuss business matters. Thomas had been the one to bring the men tea in the library, and he’d blushed upon seeing Arkady smirking at him.

That night, Thomas found Arkady sitting in the servants’ hall reading a letter while a few others sat at the table, playing cards or reading.

“Hello, you,” Arkady greeted him fondly, looking up from the letter. Thomas barely managed to hide a smile as he took a seat next to Arkady.

“Hello. Who’s the letter from?”

“My friends in Petrograd. They ask if I’ve become a bourgeois capitalist yet,” Arkady said with a laugh.

“I don’t think there’s any risk of that happening. If living here has taught me anything, it’s class disparity,” Thomas grumbled, low enough that others wouldn’t hear him.

The two of them played cards that night, Thomas continuing his mission of teaching Arkady how to play. The Russian wasn’t very good, and Thomas was notably easy on him. They sat in the servants’ hall awhile, Jimmy in the corner practicing a new piece on the piano. After two games, Arkady sighed and shook his head.

“Jimmy, I think you should come over here and give Fomà a proper card game. He won’t stop letting me win.”

Jimmy looked up at the two men, then rose from the piano. “You’re not calling me Yasha anymore?” he asked with a smirk as he took Arkady’s seat across from Thomas.

Thomas watched Arkady get up, but didn’t say anything. He dealt out two hands for himself and Jimmy.

“No, I thought you did not like it,” Arkady reminded Jimmy. The blond just shrugged and picked up his cards. Arkady smiled at that. “I am tired,” he announced as he got up from the table. “Do not beat him too badly, Yasha,” he said with a smirk.

“I really don’t think there’s any risk of that,” Thomas said dryly. Jimmy rolled his eyes. “Goodnight,” Thomas called after Arkady, who waved from the doorway. Thomas turned back to Jimmy, who quickly dropped his gaze. “What is it?” he asked, wondering why Jimmy was suddenly so timid.

“Nothing,” the young man said automatically. _The way you look at him. You’d never look at me that way, would you?_ Jimmy thought sullenly to himself.

There was a thick silence between them as they played their card game, and Thomas couldn’t put his finger on the reason for it.

“Been a long time since we’ve played cards,” Thomas observed nonchalantly. “I’ve been quite busy, I suppose.”

“Busy with _him_ ,” Jimmy muttered before he could stop himself. Realizing what he’d said, Jimmy blushed a deep red as he stuttered, trying to think of something to say.

Thomas stopped in his tracks, his hand hovering over the table as he went to put a card down. It was true, he had been spending the majority of his time with Arkady lately, but that didn’t mean he and Jimmy weren’t friends, did it?

“I… Excuse me?” Thomas managed to say, struggling to regain his usual composure.

Jimmy looked equally uncomfortable, and fidgeted in his seat. “Well, I just mean to say…you two are close, aren’t you?” Thomas could tell there was something more to the question; he knew Jimmy well enough to see that from the younger man’s cagey behavior.

The under-butler looked around, ascertaining that they were definitely alone in the hall before clearing his throat and speaking. “Arkady and I are good friends, yes. What’s it to you?” he asked, keeping his voice even so as to not seem overly confrontational.

“It’s nothing,” Jimmy said hurriedly. Thomas could tell from the way he blushed that Jimmy was getting defensive; he didn’t want to start an argument now. “I just… It’s like you was saying, we haven’t played cards in a while,” Jimmy finished in a mumble.

The realization hit Thomas like a ton of bricks. _He misses me. He’s actually jealous._ He sat across from Jimmy, staring at him blankly for a second. “Well… I…” he began, but couldn’t find the words.

“It’s fine,” Jimmy mumbled. He put down his cards and stood up from the table. “I’m tired.”

“Wait,” Thomas insisted, standing up along with him. Jimmy looked up at Thomas, the table in between them. “I’m just trying to be hospitable, that’s all,” Thomas said, clearing his throat and trying to remain composed. “Believe me, I miss beating you at cards every night,” he added with what he hoped was a friendly smirk.

Saying the words made him realize how true they were: he missed Jimmy just as much as the footman missed him. He’d been so concerned with Arkady that he’d ignored Jimmy. A wave of guilt ran through him, and Thomas’ expression fell, turning to one that conveyed how guilty he felt.

Apparently the connection between the two men hadn’t completely dissolved, because Jimmy seemed to understand just how Thomas felt. “Right. Well, tomorrow evening, then?” Jimmy asked, a sliver of hope in his voice.

“Yes. Of course,” Thomas replied, smiling at him.

Jimmy went up to his bedroom, and Thomas followed a few minutes later, his head swimming. Sure, he was good friends with Jimmy—best friends, in fact—but he also was undeniably interested in Arkady, who Jimmy for whatever reason hadn’t taken much of a shine to. _I haven’t forgotten you, Jimmy_ , Thomas thought to himself as he undressed. For the first time in a while, Thomas thought about his feelings for the footman. It had been two years since they’d kissed, and they were good friends now, but Thomas had continued to harbor some romantic feelings for Jimmy. _Have I stopped loving him because Arkady is here?_ Thomas wondered as he got into bed. He’d never had to worry about having an overabundance of people to love; it was an odd idea, that he should have to choose between Arkady and Jimmy. _I suppose I love them in different ways. People do that all the time, don’t they? Nothing to worry about_ , Thomas assured himself as he finally drifted off to sleep.

The previous night’s insecurities had left him when Thomas awoke early the next morning. There was, really, no need to worry: everything would work out. He went downstairs to breakfast and smiled at both Jimmy and Arkady as the two entered.

“Are you excited to be going home soon, Mr. Berezin?” Anna asked the Russian as they all sat down to breakfast. Arkady was leaving in just three days, Thomas realized. It hit him like a train.

“In some ways, yes. I will have a lot to tell my friends back home. A lot to discuss,” Arkady said with a sheepish laugh. “But there are things I will miss about England, also.” He glanced at Thomas for the briefest of seconds.

“Well, I hope you have a safe journey,” Mr. Carson said before turning the conversation to the day’s tasks, much to everyone’s annoyance.

After breakfast, Arkady went upstairs as was his custom, and Thomas and Jimmy got on with their work. They didn’t meet much during the day, except to serve at luncheon and dinner.

“What are you going to do when he’s gone, then?” Jimmy asked Thomas as they passed each other in the parlor later on.

“Arkady? I don’t know. I suppose everything will go back to the way it was,” Thomas said with a nonchalant shrug, ignoring the knot in his stomach. He and Arkady would have to talk that evening.

“Does that mean you’ll be my friend again?” Jimmy asked with a smirk.

Despite Jimmy’s smile, the words hit Thomas almost like a physical blow, and all the guilt from last night came flooding back to him. “I’ve never stopped being your friend, Jimmy,” he said earnestly. Had it seemed like that? Sure, he’d been spending most of his time with Arkady, but he’d never imagined Jimmy would think they weren’t friends anymore. Before either of the young men could say anything more, Carson appeared on the landing.

“Come along boys, there’s more important things to do than gossip.”

With an unreadable look, Jimmy sidled past Thomas, leaving the under-butler to collect himself, thinking about what Jimmy had said. Why was everything so complicated now?

That night, after the family was in bed, Thomas made his way to the servants’ hall. He smiled at Arkady, but sat down next to Jimmy instead. The footman looked up at him, failing to hide a smile.

They played cards and smoked for some time, eventually realizing they were the last two in the hall.

“We should probably head up,” Thomas pointed out.

“Alright then,” Jimmy said, stubbing out his cigarette.

They climbed the stairs together as they’d done a hundred times, then went their separate ways. Thomas entered his own bedroom and changed into his nightclothes, then silently crept down the hall to Arkady’s bedroom.

“Finally, you are here,” Arkady said as he ushered Thomas inside. “It feels like I have been waiting for you all night.” Once inside, Arkady wrapped his arms around Thomas’ neck happily. This was one thing Thomas never tired of—Arkady’s seemingly endless affection.

“I was playing cards,” Thomas explained, instinctively putting his arms around the other man’s waist. Arkady led him to the bed and they lay down, pressed close together in order to fit. “Tomorrow is your last full day here,” Thomas mumbled into Arkady’s shoulder.

“Yes, it is. I will miss you very much, Fomà,” Arkady said, gently rubbing Thomas’ back.

“We probably won’t ever see each other again,” Thomas whispered, voicing a thought that had been plaguing him for a while.

Arkady gently smiled at him. “No, we will not. But this has been very good, yes? I have enjoyed my time with you.” Thomas attempted a smile, but couldn’t bring himself to be as unaffected as Arkady. “Солнышко, you knew from the very beginning that I could not stay here,” Arkady reminded him gently, trying not to sound reprimanding. “All of the good things in life have ending, you know. But the ending does not mean it never happened.”

Thomas nodded slowly, letting the truth of Arkady’s words sink in. Staying together wasn’t feasible; they lived thousands of miles apart. And in truth, Thomas would never want to give up his life at Downton to be with Arkady.

“Well, at least I’ll always remember the handsome foreigner that swept me off my feet,” Thomas said, managing a smile.

Arkady kissed him, glad that Thomas understood. He didn’t want to leave Thomas angry and bitter. “Good. We should be happy to go our own ways,” he said, hugging Thomas tightly. They lay together for a few minutes before Arkady spoke again. “Fomà…will you do one favor for me after I leave?”

“Anything,” Thomas replied contentedly.

“Speak with Yasha.”

Arkady said the words so simply and earnestly that Thomas was momentarily taken aback. “Why?” he managed to ask.

“Because it is silly for you two to love each other and do nothing,” Arkady said. He looked down, blushing a little. “I have been selfish with you,” he confessed. “Yasha loves you so, and I kept you all to myself.”

“He doesn’t love me,” Thomas said, unconsciously moving closer into Arkady’s arms, seeking comfort. “I thought that as well, once, but I know he doesn’t.”

“You told me of that,” Arkady reminded him gently. “But it was years ago. Now you refuse to see it. I see him look at you like his whole heart is breaking.”

Thomas was silent for a minute, unwilling to believe Arkady. He refused to make a fool of himself a second time. “I wouldn’t expect you to tell me to go find another man while I’m lying in your bed,” Thomas pointed out, trying to lighten the mood.

“I only tell you because I want you to be happy,” Arkady insisted. “Speak with Yasha. After I am gone.” He smiled at Thomas, then kissed him on the lips again. “Do you promise me?”

“Alright then. I promise,” Thomas said, his mind still heavy with doubts.

* * *

It was late morning when the household assembled outside to see the guests off.

“Thank you so much for everything, Lord Grantham, we’ve had a most wonderful stay,” Kovshenikov said for the hundredth time as he made his way to the car.

“No trouble at all, it was our pleasure. And do get in touch if you’re ever in England again,” Lord Grantham responded graciously.

Arkady said individual goodbyes to Branson, Lady Grantham, and the daughters before giving his own (slightly stiff) thanks to His Lordship. As Thomas and Jimmy loaded the final things into the back of the car, Arkady came around and surreptitiously squeezed Thomas’ hand.

“До свидания, солнышко,” Arkady said, keeping his voice low to not attract attention.

They had said their real goodbyes earlier:

The past two nights had seen Thomas and Arkady making love until the early morning, trying to make the most of their time together. They’d kissed fervently a hundred times, and Arkady had thanked him for one of the most memorable months of his life. The Russian had given Thomas a gift the night before, as they put their clothes on again.

“It is not special,” Arkady had said with an embarrassed chuckle. “It is the poem I read to you before. Я Вас Любил. I translated it to English and wrote it out, so you will remember.” He had smiled as he offered Thomas a sheet of good stationery, with the Russian and English verses side by side in neat handwriting.

“It’s perfect,” Thomas had said with a smile, carefully taking the paper. He had put it away in his nightstand for now, careful to make sure no one saw it and made connections.

As they stood near the car, Thomas smiled at Arkady, not feeling nearly as melancholy as he’d expected. “Goodbye. Don’t do anything too radical over there,” he warned teasingly.

Arkady just rolled his eyes at that. “Of course. God knows you won’t.”

“Товарищ Березин, мы оставляем,” Kovshenikov called out.

Arkady gave Thomas a last smile and a pointed look at Jimmy before getting into the car.

Everyone seemed to be mildly relieved when the guests were gone; there was no more pressure to put on a show. The remainder of the day consisted mostly of returning the house to its quotidian state: stripping the bed sheets, getting all the rooms in order. Thomas and Jimmy were both on their feet all day, which Thomas considered a blessing. He intended to keep his promise to Arkady and speak with Jimmy, but it somehow felt like it would soil his memories if he did it so soon.

Jimmy was busy with his own work, but even if he’d been free, he probably wouldn’t have approached Thomas. It was all too soon for that. _Something was between them_ , Jimmy thought to himself as he arranged things in the library. _Thomas is probably torn up inside about him leaving. I don’t want to deal with that_ , he thought spitefully. In truth, his bitterness was all that kept the butterflies in his stomach at bay.

It was almost unavoidable that they saw each other that evening, however. The two young men sat at the table in the servants’ hall, smoking.

“Fancy a game of cards?” Thomas asked languidly.

“If you like,” Jimmy replied with a shrug. He studied Thomas as the other man shuffled the cards, looking for any chink through which to see into Thomas’ emotions.

Thomas could feel Jimmy’s stare on him, but he didn’t look up right away. Lord only knew what Jimmy was thinking now. “Yes?” Thomas finally asked, unable to stand the silent scrutiny any longer.

“Nothing,” Jimmy said automatically, blushing lightly. “Well, I mean, I was just wondering if you miss him. You two seemed…close,” he said, finishing lamely.

“No, not really,” Thomas said as he began to deal the cards. He was surprised at just how little he missed Arkady. Either he was handling it better than he’d expected, or it was just too early. “We…discussed things, before he left. There’s no point in being sorry, is there? Not like it would do anything.” He shrugged, meeting Jimmy’s eyes and trying to gauge the reaction.

“Right.” Jimmy picked up his cards and looked at them, his mind obviously elsewhere.

“What is it?” Thomas asked him, always able to read Jimmy’s expressions.

Pressing his lips together, Jimmy looked around. It was late, and everyone was tired after the long day. He, Thomas, and the kitchen maids cleaning up were the only people left downstairs, and the girls were out of earshot. “Did you…y’know…love him?” Jimmy asked hesitantly.

Thomas gaped at him, taken aback by the question. He and Jimmy had never spoken of anything like that before, other than Thomas making passing remarks about how Jimmy should find a nice girl from the village. “I…” Thomas stuttered, his mind tripping over itself as he tried to think how to answer. “No,” he said, and found it was the truth. After all those internal debates about his feelings, and the difference between what he felt for Jimmy and Arkady, the answer surprised Thomas as much as the question.

Everything came back to Thomas then, and he remembered all the time he’d spent with Arkady. It had been fun, to say the least, and the Russian had been a wonderful distraction, but the feeling he elicited in Thomas was nowhere near as strong as love. Arkady had most certainly felt the same, Thomas realized. They’d never exchanged those words in all the time they’d spent together, even in bed.

Thomas went on, thinking as he spoke, “He was a nice bloke and everything, but it didn’t really compare with how I felt for y—” Thomas broke off mid-sentence and blushed scarlet. He and Jimmy never spoke of that, either.

Jimmy blushed as well, able to fill in the words Thomas hadn’t said. “R-really?” he asked quietly.

There was a thick silence between them as Thomas stared down at the table. _What have I gotten myself into?_

Jimmy noticed how uncomfortable Thomas looked, and felt slightly guilty at inducing it. However, he was nowhere near guilty enough to drop the subject. Now that they’d gotten onto it, he wasn’t going to pass up the chance to ask the question that had been plaguing him for the last month. “Do you still…? I swear I won’t be angry or anything, I just really want to know if you do,” Jimmy asked. He kept his tone as gentle as he could, talking to Thomas as if the other man was a cornered animal.

Thomas paused, a thousand thoughts buzzing through his head. Eventually though, he decided he couldn’t lie to Jimmy, not when the footman sounded so sincere. Thomas nodded, eyes still fixed on the worn wood of the table. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want me to, but…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

“Even he couldn’t change your mind?” Jimmy asked in low disbelief. Arkady was attractive, Jimmy knew that. If the Russian hadn’t been able to sway Thomas’ affections, they must be quite strong. “I thought for sure I had no chance now,” Jimmy said softly, his voice trembling with the nervousness that accompanied finally confessing how he felt. Thomas’ head shot up, and Jimmy blushed, feeling sheepish. “I, uh…realized why I felt so lonely during his visit,” Jimmy said, sensing Thomas’ curiosity. He wanted to get this out in the open now, while his confidence was at its peak. “I missed spending time with you, and…I was jealous of him,” he finished.

Thomas stared at him, forcing himself not to get his hopes up. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Silently, he stared at Jimmy, prompting him to explain.

“I…feel very strongly about you,” Jimmy said, wincing at his own word choice. “More than friends, I mean. Understand?” he asked, looking at Thomas hopefully. When Thomas made no move, Jimmy faltered a little. “I…well, I love you,” he finally managed to say. It felt like a weight off his shoulders.

It took Thomas a minute to process what he was hearing. He gaped, blinking a few times as he thought it through. “You do? Honestly?”

Jimmy nodded.

The lines of the poem in his bedroom flared through his mind as he took in Jimmy’s golden face. _I loved you so sincerely, so tenderly, and I pray God grants you to be loved like that again_. It seemed prophetic now.

“I love you too,” Thomas whispered ardently.

**Author's Note:**

> On the language: There probably won't be too much Russian in this, since I've only been studying it for a year and don't know much else besides "I live in a dormitory" and "I like to eat chicken." But what little Russian there is will be in the Cyrillic alphabet, except for names. My reasoning is that the characters wouldn't be able to understand it, so the same should go for the readers. I won't put any crucial dialogue in Russian, so don't worry about translating it.  
> As always, if you happen to notice any mistakes (grammatical, factual, or words I've translated wrong) please tell me!


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